


If Wishes Were Horses

by Hoodoo



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Brutal Truths, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jealousy, Masturbation, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Sex, Possessiveness, Sadness, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, coming to an understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-08 13:43:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19870588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: Hank McCoy wants more than just friendship from Logan's girlfriend . . .





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shalovem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shalovem/gifts).



> Sorry not sorry there's an OC here. As this was self-indulgent writing, her history, backstory, and mutant abilities are not spelled out. Ask me though, if you're at all interested, because she's been around in my head for quite a while.

Logan’s mouth tasted of whiskey and old cigar. His lips were demanding; his tongue quick and lithe, going deep and exploring until one of them needed a breath before diving back in.

In contrast, the taste of Hank’s mouth was cinnamon toothpaste, or coffee, or candy, depending on the time of day. The bigger mutant with actual fangs was gentle, humming his pleasure during a kiss, lapping smoothly at her tongue, and straining towards her to keep contact as long as possible.

He did that now, as Alexis broke for air. His fingers tangled in the short hair on the back of her neck, holding her close. As desperate as he seemed, he was careful, especially as he encountered the thick ridge of scar tissue hidden at the base of her skull. She’d told him it didn’t hurt, but Hank was always cautious.

When he finally loosened his hold on her, she flicked a glance to the chair in the corner of the room. Her eyes had adjusted and everything was grey, but Logan dragged on his cigar and washed his face with bright orange and yellow for a moment as the lit end of the smoke flared.. His eyes caught hers; she couldn’t read the expression on his face. When the short burst of light was gone and he was exhaling clouds of smoke, Alexis turned her attention back to the man below her, instead of the one watching. 

She straddled Hank. One of his hands reached around her, giving her ass a squeeze before his fingers slipped between her legs, sliding along the wet he found there. Alexis groaned and leaned forward, arching her back to allow him better access. A finger dipped into her and her mouth fell open. Under her, Hank was broad and looked grey too, in this dim room. 

He’d asked her, once, if she could see what color he really was. He didn’t ask immediately; he’d been too shy. He’d been too shy to even show what he truly looked like at first. His image inducer was a constant companion, strapped to his wrist like a clunky watch, and Alexis hadn’t seen him as anything but a very large man in a white coat the first several times she’d visited his lab. She noted he had the idiocyncracy of routinely not wearing any shoes.

Those first visits were merely courtesies: on a tour of the mansion during an interview, when she’d gotten turned around in the many hallways and didn’t quite know where she was, when she went to find him, needing a hand to move the grand piano to a better spot in the conservatory and no one else was available. They’d even shared a breakfast and dinner table together with him in his ‘human disguise’ as he called it, and it was there they discovered they had a mutual appreciation for dry and not so dry British television comedies.

The first time she’d seen him--truly him, without an illusion--she’d burst into his lab with no preliminaries, no forewarning. She was bleeding, holding her left arm tight to her chest, and she needed help.

In the first moments of careening through the door and yelling for him, she’d caught a glimpse of him. Hank being upside down in the rafters didn’t surprise her; he was endowed with agility and strength beyond a flatscan--the word was derogatory but sometimes it was just _there--_ and those long arms and strong legs were for something, weren’t they? He’d dropped to the floor immediately, twisting cat-like to land on his feet with bent knees to absorb the impact.

From the ceiling to the floor his aerobatics also included a shift from a barely clothed, hair covered, blue beast to a typical looking nerdy, albeit large, human.

At the moment Alexis didn’t say anything about it; the more pressing matter was the laceration on her arm. Hank tutted and told her she should be more careful in the woods, that she’d need a tetanus vaccination, that it needed stitches but he didn’t understand the cauterized edges of the wound--

His image inducer, having loosened a little during his flip, flickered while he lectured, drawing his attention away from her injury to the equipment on his wrist. He became more flustered and shaky--scared, really--as his real self was more visible.

In anger fueled by pain, Alexis grabbed the image inducer that was demanding his attention and melted it, destroying the mechanism with enough heat to make him yank his arm back and snap the wristband apart to remove it before he was burned.

The smell of melted plastic and burnt hair filled the room, and Dr. Henry McCoy stood exposed before her.

Although he was panicked at his sudden denuding, he covered it by forcing himself to mildly tell her that what she’d just turned into a modern art sculpture was an incredibly expensive piece of equipment, and he was going to have to ask Tony Stark of all people for a replacement, and he should make her do it too, to explain the circumstances of its destruction--

“Forget that stupid thing and help me!” she shouted.

He did, and later told her he was happy she never flinched away from him. 

She’d been comfortably leaning against him as they shared the porch swing in the gazebo, him with a book and her watching the bats flying over the lawn as twilight deepened. There were lights strung in the rafters, but Hank hadn’t turned them on. He set his book aside as she shrugged and nodded.

“Of course I didn’t flinch! Why would I flinch? You know I grew up with my mom and cousins and aunts all being werewolves, right? A little extra hair isn’t anything that surprises me, even if it’s blue.”

“You can tell I’m blue?”

She scrunched her face in an expression that advertised she thought he was slow as she twisted to look at him. “Yes . . .”

Hank shrugged one massive shoulder, the one she wasn’t leaning against. “I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if you had a full range of color vision. Because of your evolution.”

“Hank, I do have some color blindness. But I can see blue. Like a dog.”

A brief frown marred his face. He never liked it when she made remarks like that, as if she was debasing herself. His discomfort was not hers, and she ignored it, settling deeper into his side. He decided there was no need to lecture her on mutant-positive talk. Carefully, he put his arm around her. For the position to be more comfortable for her, he lied to himself. 

Since she wasn’t corrected, she continued. “I like that you’re blue. I like being able to see the real you, instead of a washed out color. And there aren’t any men who are werewolves, so you’re like a mythical creature!”

Mutant-positive talk or no, Hank seriously doubted anyone else would be so happy about his true nature. Perhaps Sasquatch hunters, he amended wryly under his breath, with a dry chuckle. 

Alexis seemed to think the chuckle was for her, because she laughed too. He liked that. He liked that she enjoyed spending time with him, that she wasn’t nervous around him, that they had so many shared interests. He wanted more. He wanted to ask her out, like a real date, like a real couple, but he knew she’d had sex with Logan--in the Danger Room, no less! It was a well-known secret and topic of discussion throughout the mansion--before the older mutant migrated out again, and Hank didn’t know where that left things.

So they hung out, like friends did. No matter that he didn’t know how Logan would react to it, he didn’t discourage Alexis’s friendship with him. He didn’t stop spending inordinate amounts of time with her. He didn’t discourage physical contact. The students whispered about them. He tamped down stronger feelings as best he could, although she knew how he felt. He’d made a fool of himself when he’d kissed her one night and admitted that he wanted more than he had. She’d let him down gently, he supposed, even though he imagined Wolverine’s claws would be less painful through his heart. 

Logan had returned, of course, and Hank found out where things had been left: Alexis happily jumped into the shorter man’s bed. 

Hank tried to turn the other cheek, tried to continue to be a good friend, tried to put on a good face, even though it was the bitterest of pills to swallow.

It was a surprise, then, when Logan approached him and bluntly said they needed to talk about Alexis. 

Immediately he was frozen with dread. Alexis had mentioned his crush on her, he thought. Or Logan’s sensitive ears had heard him jerking off with her name on his lips, even if he only did that in the middle of the night behind the locked door of his room! The more feral mutant was possessive and alpha male, and now Hank was a dead man walking. Worst of all, he deserved it; Alexis had spurned him and yet he continued to sniff after her. 

As quick as his brain was, the only response he could come up with when confronted was that the cigar Logan was chewing on needed to be put out; they were in a lab surrounded by delicate equipment and besides, this was a school for christ’s sake!

The second, but not the last surprise was that Logan complied. 

Hank worked hard to be calm, knowing Logan could smell the anxiety leaking out of his pores, and was so focused slowing his breathing that he missed the beginning of the conversation.

“--so it’s not exactly what I’d want, a’course, but you know. Women.”

Hank cleared his throat. “Ah. Women.”

The shorter man continued as though Hank completely understood. “She’s young. I don’t believe people oughtta settle down right away. Shit, I’m older than dirt an’ I haven’t settled down yet! I think people should sow some oats. Get an idea of what they want, then they can know what they’re gettin’ into, so there’s no regrets later.”

Hank’s head felt fuzzy. Leaden. It almost seemed like he knew what Logan was talking about, but it was just out of focus, on the edge of his vision. 

“And so you’d like . . . you think it would be felicitous if . . .”

Logan fixed him with a steely gaze. “Let me make myself clear. I don’t particularly like it, no. I know what you think of me, and honestly, you’re mostly right. But is it suitable? Yeah. Sure. For now.”

Hank tried to follow, and failed. Apparently he hadn’t been able to hide his anxiousness and growing confusion as well as he thought, because Logan sighed and laid it out candidly.

“You wanna fuck her, Hank?”

To hear it so frank made two responses war in him: first, he was extremely glad he’d kept his lab coat on to cover the physical reaction that made his briefs tight, and second, an immediate indignation that Logan would offer something so casually, like Alexis was owned by him, like she was a piece of property.

He told Logan so, loudly and with surrogate fury in Alexis’s stead. 

Logan scowled at the outrage. 

“You think we didn’t talk about this, Beast?!” he interrupted, just as loudly.

It honestly hadn’t occurred to him that Alexis was privy--maybe even the instigator!--of what was offered. It turned the whole thing on its head, and with that bit of information, Hank agreed. It wasn’t exactly right, it was nothing like he’d imagined, but like Logan said, it was suitable. For now.

⁂

So he’d bedded Alexis. Like all new physical relationships it was delicate at first, with a learning curve, but Dr. Henry Philip McCoy was nothing if not an eager student. It’s been sweet and tentative at first: kisses that lingered, hands exploring more and more intimately. They’d finally been naked together for the first time in the shower; the noise of the water covered the noise they’d made and then it was a simple thing to sneak off to bed. 

There’s also been a tryst in the gazebo, late at night.

Which led him to tonight, sprawled on his back with Alexis atop him, fingering her from behind while she groaned and panted into his ear. Her noises were interspersed with dirty suggestions and once, when a digit slipped into her, a squeak of surprise followed by a throaty laugh. 

On the edges of his own more sensitive hearing, Hank picked out the subtle sound of a hand rubbing fabric, and then the metallic sigh of a zipper opening. 

This was the first time Logan had been in the room, watching. Hank had no doubts the older mutant had observed them more surreptitiously, from behind a hedge or through the crack in a door, but he’d never sat in a chair in the corner. 

It worried Hank, at the back of his brain, because he wasn’t sure the reasoning behind it. To judge him? To make sure he was doing right by Alexis? For purely voyeuristic reasons? He didn’t have much time to devote to the concern, however, because Alexis ground down on his fingers and whined, and he’d learned that she was getting impatient from the light touches he’d given her. She wanted more, and Hank knew if he let her have her way she’d sit up on her knees and hold his cock steady to drop herself onto it--

Instead of letting her do as she pleased, Hank removed his hand. Ignoring her moan of protest, he slipped both hands under her thighs and lifted her, urging her through actions to move upward. Both men she slept with were inordinately strong and she’d learned to allow them to direct where they wanted her to be. Alexis laughed and steadied herself by holding onto his shoulders, then, as he had her continue, dropped her hands to the mattress above his head, looking back down on him. 

With his face between her legs, his eyes caught hers, then his grip tightened on her waist. The pressure encouraged her to cant her pelvis, and Hank’s mouth closed over her pussy. 

With the first touch of his hot mouth on her, Alexis gave a deep-throated moan. Hank was generous when going down on her, licking from her entrance to the top and finding the sensitive nub of nerves there. He nuzzled into her, using his entire mouth instead of just the tip of his tongue. He explored her more thoroughly than she thought possible. Alternating licks with suction with pressure, keeping the flat of his tongue pressed to her clit when he needed a breath, Hank brought her to the brink of orgasm in an incredibly short time.

Alexis managed to shift one of her supporting arms to grab his head and hair as she cried out. Just before she came, however, the man below her stopped. She cried out again, in disappointment this time. Her thighs shook on either side of his head and Hank blew gently on her pussy, cooling it, making her writhe impotently above him. 

“You’re a brat,” Alexis told him, her voice all but cracking from desperation. “What if I did that to you?”

“You’ve teased me to the brink of orgasm and stopped,” Hank reminded her. His mouth was so close to her his voice was muffled and his lips brushed against her. 

“I never made you wait this long!”

“Then do something about it.”

At his permission, Alexis dropped herself onto his mouth again. Hank welcomed it, opening his mouth to take her in, savoring the taste, lapping indulgently at her, snaking his tongue into her while his nose pressed into her clit. He rocked his head from side to side as best he could squeezed between her upper thighs, adding another dimension of sensation to it all. 

It was a race, now: would she come first or would he run out of breath? It may be close--

With a sobbing cry, Alexis melted into an orgasm. Her fingers tightened and pulled his hair painfully and her hips made minute, involuntary jerks that smashed her pussy more completely against his mouth, but he was heavily muscled and easily took the movements. In fact, he continued to lick her through the waves of bliss that rocked her, not letting them subside but drawing them out, bringing her to the pinnacle of euphoria again, until she had to move off his face because the pleasure bordered an ache of pain. 

She pushed herself back down his body. Hank felt her pussy leave a trail of wet down the hair on his chest and stomach, where she rested a moment.

Alexis panted for breath and he could feel her shake. As he wiped his chin with a palm, it was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she was all right, but she beat him to it.

“Are you okay?” she gasped. 

“Better than okay.”

She smiled down at him. “What do you want now?”

Before he answered, he saw her glance up, to the corner again. For a moment, he’d forgotten Logan was in the room. Now that he’d been made aware again, he could hear the soft sound of skin on skin, stroking leisurely. Logan’s breath was still steady and not hitched. 

It was suddenly important to him that Logan came. Not because he was bi or because he truly cared if the older mutant got off, but if Logan was watching because he wanted a show, by god he’d give him one. 

“I want you to fuck me,” he said in more of a demand than a request. 

Alexis pinched his nipples to make him hiss. “Really? You don’t want me to go down on you, to return the favor?”

“Yes, really,” Hank replied, and punctuated his choice by finding the condom that’d been tossed carelessly on the bed before they’d climbed into it. 

With nimble fingers he tore open the wrapper and with even more dexterity, rolled it down over himself without looking. 

“Up,” he ordered quietly.

Alexis complied quickly, rising to her knees and scooting backward. His lower abdomen was too thick for her to get high enough for what he wanted, so she readjusted and squatted over him instead. There was just enough light coming through the gauzy curtains and the angle they’d fallen into on the bed for Hank to lift his head and see his cock disappear into her.

Even though the thin rubber encasing his dick, it felt divine and he gave one continuous groan as she sank fully onto him. 

She moaned too, and gave an exploratory rock to test the limits of her movement. This was a common position for them--Hank enjoyed being able to watch her--but the start was always slow. Her pussy clenched around him, and the delicate circle she made with her core stimulated him in a different way. He moaned again, and used his mouth to breathe.

Satisfied with what she could do, Alexis raised and lowered herself achingly slow a few times. He felt her legs shake and grasped the tops of her thighs. It flashed through his mind that Logan was still sitting in the corner, and he licked his lips before saying, 

“Lean back.”

He was happy he didn’t make it sound too much like a question in front of the other man.

Either way, Alexis obeyed. She grabbed his forearms for balance as he bent his knees and planted his feet on the mattress to give her something to rest against. Carefully she moved to the position he suggested, taking the pressure off her knees. Once she was fully in place, she settled into the pocket created by his pelvis and hips, and stopped moving for a moment. 

That was okay; just her stretching out while still being inside her created a whole new explosion of pleasure through him. He wasn’t as deep as before, but it didn’t seem to matter. 

“How am I . . . how’m I supposed to move?”

Her stuttered question broadcast that it was pleasurable for her too, and that made a hot flush speed through his gut. 

“You can rotate a little, oh fuck, yes, like that, like that! Or you can squ--” Hank broke himself off with a guttural noise as Alexis tightened her pussy around him before he could finish the suggestion. When he could form words again, his voice had dropped to a lower note. _“--eeze,_ that’s so good, _fuck_ . . . or maybe, maybe you don’t need to move much at all . . .”

Once more, she complied and held very still. Hank brought one hand to his mouth and wet his fingers. His arm was long enough it wasn’t difficult to reach where his cock stretched her pussy. His fingertips found and brushed her clit, and Alexis jumped, like she’d been jolted.

With butterfly-light touches, Hank stroked her. She gasped and shook, and once again involuntarily moved her hips in rhythm with his touches. It was enough that his cock slipped minutely in and out of her, and that tiny bit of friction plus the majority of his cock surrounded by her pussy was more than enough to begin his ascent to climax. 

She was sweating. He was sweating. They both moaned in tandem. Her body tensed, arcing ever so slightly up, which made him go into her slightly deeper. Hank had to stop rubbing her clit as he was pushed closer to the edge--

“Oh--oh--oh--oh--”

\--it was too much, he was going to come, he was going to come--

Alexis, with a noise that sounded like a frustrated growl, shifted her position without warning. She sat upright and somehow managed to keep his cock inside her as she adjusted her legs to be on her knees instead of squatting over him. He felt her feet tuck under his thighs even as the new position buried him completely inside her. She leaned onto his chest.

From the corner of the room was a soft gasp, and a more urgent sound of a hand stroking. 

Face to face with him, Alexis breathed, _“Fuck,”_ into his mouth, and did just that. 

There was no tease or softness. She rocked into him, hard, without a break between being seated completely on him or lifting herself up to do it again. Hank tried to keep up, tried to match the pace, but eventually let her do the work. She gasped and dug her fingers into him; he gasped and bit his lip in a futile effort to slow down the inevitable. 

With a sound that was more bestial than not, Hank came. Every muscle tensed, throwing Alexis off her rhythm, driving himself upward into her so that she squealed and just held on. It felt like he was adrift, waves of bliss buffeting him. It took several moments to realize he was squeezing her tightly enough to leave marks. Even as he loosened his grip he worked at taking a full breath.

His cock pulsed, still inside her. Alexis peeled herself off him--the fur on his chest was damp from her sweat--and gingerly she sat up. Just as carefully he put a hand between them to hold the based of the condom so it didn’t slip off as she threw a leg up and over him to lay at his side. 

“You gotta Kleenex box in here, Beast?”

Hank almost jumped. In the wash of euphoria, he’d almost forgotten Logan was still in the room. 

Alexis sat up, pulled a handful of tissues out of the box on his bedside table, and passed them around. Logan slouched up without readjusting his jeans. His hand smelled a combination of cigar smoke and semen as he reached over the bed for some. He didn’t sit on the bed, however. 

Hank accepted the tissues and gently pulled the used rubber off, wrapping it up before wiping residual ejaculate from himself. 

“That was somethin’,” Logan said quietly. 

Hank could hear him finally ruck up his jeans, although he didn’t redo his belt or zip up the fly. 

“It was more than something!” she said, and Hank could hear the grin in her voice. 

The mattress shifted a little, and she leaned over him. “Thanks, Hank,” she whispered, although he was sure Logan heard it. She dropped her head and kissed him, slow and deep how he liked. 

It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest she just spend the night in his bed, but Logan’s hand was already brushing her hair off her face. 

“Wanna go for a second round, angel?” Logan asked in a voice made rough with arousal.

A frown pricked Hank’s face. Logan, his mutation giving him better than average night vision, noted it. 

“Healing factor,” he explained, as if Hank’s expression was confusion and he’d voiced it. “It doesn’t just fix up cuts and bruises.”

Alexis snorted a laugh and Logan hefted her off the bed, throwing her over his shoulder and taking her to the door despite her protests that she was completely naked. Hank flipped over and hiked himself up on an elbow to watch their progress. His own vision being above average, he saw the hand that Logan used around her thigh to keep her in place slip to her pussy. Alexis’s laughing objections were choked off by a moan at the new stimulation. 

Finally, before he actually opened the door, Logan released her. She pressed against him, kissing him with a fierceness she hadn’t used with Hank. The mutant still laying on the bed saw her dip a hand into the open front of his jeans and watched Logan grit his teeth at the stroke she gave him. 

Still laughing, Alexis left his side then--Logan gave her a smack on the ass, to which she gasped--to collect her clothing from the floor. She paused and kissed Hank hard on the mouth, then was at Logan’s side again. 

Then they were both out the door, leaving him in the dark the next moment. 

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

He’d had concerns about the viability of the situation from the beginning.

The good parts--the closeness, the familiarity that grew with each encounter, the intimacy--with Alexis were cloaked by things he hadn’t expected. 

Hank had expected that Logan, due to his volatile temperment, would be the first to want it to stop. It seemed rational that Logan would dislike sharing something of such a personal nature with anyone, really. It would be reasonable to expect that it could only last for so long, watching Hank and Alexis together physically, smelling and tasting the aftermath of their lovemaking, before the possessive, feral side of him exploded and shut the whole thing down. 

Whether the explosion went far enough to cause bodily harm to Hank, the blue-haired mutant could only speculate. 

But what happened instead was something he hadn’t hypothesized on. 

Hank discovered that _he_ became jealous. _He_ became possessive. He discovered he wanted Alexis all to himself, and an odd combination of seething rage and hopeless defeat swirled in him when Alexis was with Logan and not him. 

Voyeurism was never something he’d found titillating. Even watching pornography, Hank chose point of view videos versus watching two people. Because Alexis didn’t mind and Logan seemed to enjoy sitting back and having a front row view, Hank had tried the same. He occupied a chair that was on the cusp of being too small, watching the two of them sweat and grab and kiss and bite. Logan was more active than he was, more directive during the act, telling Alexis what he wanted from her, being vocal about what he was going to do to her. From her moans and eagerness, Alexis enjoyed it.

He didn’t become aroused. He didn’t take himself in hand, watching the two of them. It was awkward and uncomfortable and he half wondered if he just got up and left if they’d even notice.

If he could have looked upon them with a scientific detachment, maybe it would have been okay. As it was, Hank found that he couldn’t. It pained him to see the unbridled joy Alexis took from being fucked by another man. His efforts to distance himself were futile; mostly he just felt heaviness behind his eyes as he struggled to hold tears in. 

Hank thought maybe, _maybe,_ Alexis would decide between the two of them. He even thought of mentioning it to her! He laid out his best arguments: he could offer her a . . . well, not _normal_ life, looking as he did, but a regular one, where they’d grow old together. He had stability and a job, so he could keep her well. He was respectful and careful and he adored her . . . 

. . . but Logan could do what she needed. What she wanted. Logan could be sweet and gentle; there were times that Hank heard them laughing quietly and softer sounds from the mattress, instead of savage animal sex. He’d seen Logan use his mouth on her with seemingly endless patience, until she was a quivering mass of teary bliss. Whereas in contrast, Hank couldn’t be rough with her when she wanted it, as much as he would like to believe otherwise. 

Logan never injured her, no, but there were occasions when Alexis simply wanted a hardcore, body-slamming fucking. Logan held her down and complied. Hank simply couldn’t fulfill that request. He couldn’t be extreme that way. He couldn’t overpower her and take what he wanted, how he wanted, even if that was what she asked.

So the jealousy, the anger, and the feeling of inadequacy made Hank take a hard look at everything. He realized that if he’d been in Logan’s position, he never would have been open to allowing Alexis to screw someone else. It was an epiphany he hadn’t expected to learn about the older mutant: that Logan was truly in tune with his partner. He had the life experience to know that people in their twenties were burning with passion and need, and it could and did fizzle out. 

There were other clues too: Although he and Alexis got along well as friends, she sought Logan out for companionship. No matter if Hank thought they had little in common, they enjoyed each other’s company. They spent inordinate time together out in the forest the ringed the property. Although Logan by his very nature was a heavyweight of a fighter, he coached Alexis in self-defense patiently. And of course there was the obvious fact that Hank wore protection during sex, while Logan came inside her without a barrier between them. It was a subtle discrepancy that still shouted loudly who Alexis preferred. 

After observing them both in the bedroom and without, he had to admit the two of them had an easy camaraderie and genuine affection that made his stomach a bit sour, no matter how much pleasure he’d gotten physically from the whole affair. 

With a heavy heart, Hank laid it out for Alexis. He didn’t do it with Logan present; there was still the underlying fear that the whole thing had been a ruse for Logan to gloat and strut his superiority. 

Alexis, to her credit, was upset. Why wouldn’t she be? She had her cake and ate it too. She came to understand, eventually, and sincerely hoped they could still be friends. 

Hank wasn’t sure. Friends to lovers, yes, that was the progression that seemed natural and how movies insisted was happened all the time; lovers to friends was a more ticklish path to walk. He knew he’d miss their friendship if he didn’t try, however, so he agreed through his misgivings and hoped it would work. 

_fin._


End file.
